


Home 2.0

by OrangeWorth



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/F, Post-Prison, Prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-02-27 19:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeWorth/pseuds/OrangeWorth
Summary: The story starts 2 years and 4 months after Bridget's resignation at Wentworth. Franky tries to get a fresh start by moving to Sydney. She has lost contact with Bridget, but still misses her deeply. If you like what you've read, feel free to leave a comment :)





	1. But This Feels Like Home

It's been two years and four months now. Franky spent a year and ten months inside of Wentworth before she was released. For the past six months, she's been a free woman, but she didn't feel free in Melbourne so she made the daring move of going to Sydney to start all over. A move she made to bury her past. But there was one part of her that she couldn't quite erase. Bridget Westfall still captured her every conscious and unconscious thought. She was still in love with her; more than she ever was before, if that was possible. She knew she was always going to love Bridget even when she was now no longer in her life. Franky even indulged the thought that Bridget would be better off without her and that her life only took a turn for the worse after getting entangled with her. In fact, she planted that seed of doubt ever since Bridget’s resignation and from that day onwards, she carefully watered it. That seed would now qualify as a seedling inside of Franky.

Franky sighed as she loosened her grip on the steering wheel. The brunette was hopeful that this unit could be the home that she was looking for. She was tired of moving, but she couldn’t quite settle for what she had. She was glad that Claire Smith called and told her about this unit. The apartment was in an upscale neighborhood and despite the expected steep rental, the brunette was just not going to live in questionable conditions anymore. She thought back on how she first felt safe in Bridget's house. She wondered if any other place that she entered could ever have such an effect on her. She was hoping to find a place that mirrored how Bridget's place felt to her. She even drove by a couple of times, hoping to catch a glimpse of her but Bridget seemed to have sold the place. Somehow, sitting in her car by Bridget’s place couldn’t quite do it for Franky.  She was beginning to think that maybe it wouldn't ever be possible to feel the way she did before. She pondered if all it was was just a vain hope. _Anger and hope_. She may have silenced the anger part, but Bridget lighted the hope in her which she'd fanned rigorously the moment she got free. The law was finally on her side! She wasn't going to get angry and risk getting thrown back into prison. She was certain she wouldn’t survive a third time in prison.

The perky blonde realtor waved enthusiastically at Franky as she walked towards the car.

Franky faked a smile and stepped out of the car. The sun was shining brightly but it wasn't reflected inside of Franky. She wondered if her mood was due to Bridget's birthday being tomorrow.

“I have a feeling that this is the one!” Claire chirped.

Franky nearly laughed. Claire's energy would be infectious if she didn't feel like the never healing wound in her was bleeding a mighty river today. The realtor only meant well and Franky didn't want to be snarky regardless of Claire saying the same damn thing about every single place they saw together. Franky squinted as she looked up at the modern building and something inside her clicked. She didn't know what it was, but Claire could be right this time.

The pair walked into the building's lobby and waited for the elevator. The unit they were seeing was on the second floor.

“Here we are!” Claire said with the same enthusiasm as before. “The good thing about this building is that there's only two units per floor. 202 is on your right and 201 is on your left. The rent is a little steeper than the other places I've shown you, but I think you'll agree that it's worth the price. As you can see, the hardwood floor on the hallway is new,” Claire said as she fumbled with the lock on the door of 201. 

The door of 202 opened revealing an attractive, sophisticated redhead with green eyes. She didn't even bat an eye at the other two ladies and just walked over to the elevator.  

“Voilà!” Claire squealed. She gestured into the unit.

It was sleek, modern, and minimalistic. The same hardwood floor which covered the hallway covered the entire space. The open floor plan had plenty of natural light from the floor to ceiling windows. The walls were white except for the exposed red brick walls by the living room and kitchen. The unit took Franky's breath away, but the kitchen was the deal closer as it was state-of-the-art. She knew then that this could be what she was looking for all along. Apart from the kitchen, the bare space left Franky with plenty of choice for furniture and personalization.

“So…what do you think?” Claire asked excitedly after Franky inspected nearly every inch of the place. “The neighbor's quite a looker too eh?” she asked with a wink.

“Not my type,” Franky said simply. She saw Claire's eyebrows raised in confusion as the realtor knew that they both played for the same team. The brunette silently assessed that if she was the old her, she would have fucked the brains out of Claire as a celebration. Then, she would probably move on to her new neighbor because that ginger looked like a good fuck and nothing more. But the new her knew no woman would ever make her feel the way Bridget did. She had a Gidget shaped hole inside of her and she didn't mind it. “But this feels like home. I'll take it.”

“Great! I'm so happy for you!” Claire said, clapping her hands.

***

Franky had a peaceful first night in her new home. She woke up early and excited. She was going to get some furniture and get to personalizing.

Eight hours later, she sighed deeply in her car and thought about the little that she purchased. The most excitement she had was in choosing a slice of cake. She knew it was rather silly to celebrate Bridget's birthday without her actually being present, but she can’t quite help herself when she walked past the cake shop. She remembered back to the first and only time she got to celebrate Bridget’s birthday. She had baked the psychologist a birthday cake from scratch and she would never forget that smile and look on Bridget’s face. She wasn't close to forgetting how delightful Bridget’s _thank you, baby_ sounded to her ears. And that wasn’t the only thing she was remembering. Later that night, she found herself lost in worship of her woman’s body; absolute blind devotion. She shook her head and felt a stray tear fall from her left eye. She sighed again and quickly wiped it off.

Franky quickly distracted her thoughts to the things that she did manage to buy. Despite being overwhelmed with choices, she ended up with some pretty unessential things: houseplants, two bedside lamps and a bucket full of kitchen utensils. Her kitchen supplies were the easiest to commit to as it was always her place of dominance. She had always left the other parts to her Spunky’s liking. She wondered if the lack of Bridget was the root cause of her indecisiveness or it was simply the part of her which wanted a home with a strong sense of Bridget. She shrugged to herself as she gazed at her purchases which were placed in an oversized cardboard box. She didn't mind the size till she started struggling at her front door.

“G’day, need some help?” a voice behind her spoke in a friendly tone.

That voice! Franky could recognize it even in her deepest slumber! She felt her heart stop.  


	2. I Live In 202

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky turns around to see the person behind her

It was as if a massive explosion occurred in Franky’s head. Her ears were now ringing and the whole scene played out before her eyes in slow motion. Her brain couldn’t keep the moment in real time when she turned around and faced the owner of the voice which calmed her on so many of her restless moments. To Franky, that voice was all about consistency and safety even when everything around her was crumbling. She looked intensely into those blue eyes and she knew, without a doubt, that they reflected the surprise in her own green eyes. She didn’t exactly see the coffee cup get released from Bridget’s right hand. Her eyes were too busy drinking in the face which her brain desperately tried to emblazon in her mind daily. Her ears, however, recovered and heard the coffee cup hitting the floor as all of its hot content splashed all over their boots, creating a puddle of aromatic black liquid on those perfect hardwood floors.

Bridget appeared fucking ageless to Franky! The woman really knew how to look after herself! Her blonde hair however, wasn’t short anymore. It was as long as when they first met. Franky didn’t know if Bridget only appeared perfect because of her ever-prevailing love goggles or it was really the case. But what the brunette did know was that her mouth was completely dry. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her brain shouted at her to say something, but nothing was working physically. She was still looking at Bridget’s face and she realized that blonde felt the exact way. The brunette forced herself to swallow hard and finally, she was able to find her voice. “Hey, Gidge, whatcha doing here?” she asked weakly. Her brain sent the message to use her usual playful tone, but it just wasn’t possible. There was too much shock to recover from! And then it hit her. She used Bridget’s pet name as if time melted into nothing. Shit! She now didn't know how Bridget would react to it.

Bridget tilted her head a little as she heard the pet name which she hadn’t heard in years. She could see it in Franky’s facial expression that the brunette not only struggled with the fact that she was in front of her but also how _Gidge_ rolled off her tongue with such ease.  She too couldn’t imagine how it was possible for Franky to appear right before her but she forced herself to recover. “I live in 202,” she said as she offered a small smile.

_No, the ginger lives in 202!_ Franky thought. She was dead afraid to know what their connection was. Frantic thoughts hammered into her brain. Some parts of her were already screaming the answers, but she refused to give in to them. Not until she had actual proof. She looked down at the mess on the floor and she saw that Bridget was also holding the handle to her radiant pink spinner luggage. “And I live in 201,” Franky said, hoping hard that her voice sounded goofy. If she couldn’t sound out her typical bravado, goofy would have to do.

Bridget raised an eyebrow questioning the authenticity of that statement.

Franky flashed her signature smirk at the blonde. “Could you hold this?” she asked, moving her box towards Bridget.

Bridget awkwardly took hold of the box and for a moment, their fingers met, sending bolts of electricity to each other.

When the box was securely in Bridget’s hands, Franky opened the front door easily. She smiled at her before offering to take back the box. “Won’t you come in? Clean up a little?” She knew it was quite crazy of her to ask Bridget to enter her unit when her own was just a few steps away, but she just met the person she was dreaming about for over two years! No time on earth would be enough at this point! And when she saw Bridget hesitating, she added, “I have coffee to replace your spilled one, and I have cake.” She had to at least try and see if she could make the blonde stay just a bit longer with her.

Bridget was feeling rather tired from her travelling, but she too was ecstatic to see this familiar face once more. She nodded slowly and followed Franky into the unit. Bridget took a look around. “Well, this is depressing,” she said with a friendly smile, gesturing towards the sleeping bag on the living room floor.

By now, Franky had placed her new box together with the few boxes that she brought with her. She knew unpacking was vital, but there wasn’t really any place she could store her belongings. She shrugged at Bridget. “What can I say, Gidge? I can’t commit to anything larger than what’s in the box you helped carried.”

Bridget tilted her head again, ears hungering for more at that point. She wanted to hear that beautiful mouth call out the name that she’s used to hearing.

“You’re ok with me calling ya Gidge, right?” Franky liked to think that she knew Bridget well enough to have a good read on her, but she used her question to ascertain if it was still true.

Bridget flashed Franky a smile. “You can call me whatever you want.”  

Franky was over the moon to hear the response. The blonde had calmly thrown the ball back into her court, giving the power back to her. “Gidget it is,” she said with huge smile.

“Moving stress is real,” Bridget stated plainly as she took another look around. It wasn't that long ago when she was in the same situation.   

Franky walked into the kitchen to start the coffee preparation, thankful that her kitchen was complete. She passed Bridget some paper towels to clean up the mess by her front door. She then took her chocolate cheesecake out and felt embarrassed that she requested for a candle. Now, she wondered if stabbing the lone candle into the cake was too much. _Do or die_ , she told herself. She plated the cake and pushed the candle in and wondered how inappropriate it would be to hug and kiss Bridget on the cheek when she wished her. She wondered if she could do it since it would look normal for friends. But then again, she had no idea what they were! _Were they even friends? Could they ever just be friends?_

Bridget looked at Franky who was lighting up the candle and she couldn’t stop her amused smile from spreading. _Where the hell did she find a candle?_ The brunette was truly still full of surprises.

“Make a wish, Gidget,” Franky said, pushing the plate over to Bridget who was resting her forearms on the kitchen counter.

“You remembered,” Bridget said as her heart was filled with such warmth. She only recalled feeling this way with Franky. She still couldn’t figure out how Franky had a cake at the ready and it was even more puzzling that the brunette had a birthday candle as well.

“I would never forget it,” Franky said softly.

Bridget did as she was asked. She closed her eyes and made her wish.

“Happy birthday, Gidge,” Franky said. The brunette decided that her only action was to wish Bridget. She then watched with much excitement as Bridget bent over to blow out that single candle. When it was extinguished, she sliced the cake into half and placed that half into another plate. If it was up to her, she would be completely happy to just use two forks on that plate but she didn’t know how Bridget would feel about sharing. This time, she was going to play safe. Upon hearing Bridget moan of appreciation as the cake entered her mouth, Franky knew she chose the perfect flavor. Her mind, on the other hand, wandered further into the other things she could do to elicit such a moan from the blonde. Quickly, she put a halt to those thoughts.

Despite knowing how futile it was, Bridget took a sip of the arabica coffee for some fake liquid courage. She would have been more grateful to have an Irish coffee instead, but having Franky so close to her gave her many things to be thankful for this year. She placed her mug down gently before saying, “I need to apologize. I-”

“Don’t,” Franky interrupted. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. The way I treated you back then…” She shook her head, not wanting to relive her horrible actions. She knew that her actions didn't reflect that of a person who was and is still in love with Bridget. Bridget’s _you wanna hurt me? Congratulations, baby_ had haunted her every other night and it’s now ringing in her ears as if she had spoken them again. She clutched her coffee mug hard. She wasn’t aware that Bridget was waiting patiently for her to continue. She couldn’t look at that face. She knew Bridget was looking at her, studying her, seeing if there’s any more to add. Then she felt Bridget’s hand resting softly on hers, lending her the courage to look at the face of the person she swore never to hurt again. She didn’t see the hurt anymore. All she saw was forgiveness and understanding. She was angry on the inside. She didn’t deserve that forgiveness. She didn’t deserve it, but it was given so freely. “I was awful to you,” Franky said, with a sniffle.

“It's in the past. You did what you thought was best and I did what I thought was best,” Bridget said as she offered up a sad smile. “To a fresh start?” she asked as she raised her mug. She was asking this time with a happier smile.

Franky returned the smile and clinked mugs with Bridget. “A fresh start,” she echoed.

They savored their coffees silently until Bridget stopped the moment. “I better get going. It’s been a long day,” she said, looking at her luggage.

Franky nodded. “Yeah, I’ll walk you to the door.” If she could, she would love to keep Bridget with her for just a bit longer but she knew it was a difficult situation. Her brain reasoned that if Bridget was just next door, there would be plenty of opportunity. At least, that was how Franky viewed their situation.

“Thank you for the cake and coffee,” Bridget said earnestly as she once again stood by the hallway.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Franky said, beaming. “Once again, happy birthday, Gidge,” she said, with oncoming shyness.      

“I’m very glad you remembered,” Bridget said. She couldn’t help but match Franky’s smile.

“Of course,” Franky said, still smiling and looking at Bridget.

“Bridget, I was about to wonder if your flight got delayed,” the redhead said. She somehow managed to walk up to the two of them without either of them realizing.

Bridget snapped out of gazing at Franky to look at the woman beside her.

Franky watched, again in slow motion. But this time, it was cruel. So very cruel. It felt like her heart was physically ripped apart, shot at and burnt when she witnessed the redhead pulling Bridget in for a long kiss on the lips.

When the redhead pulled away, she looked deep into those blue eyes. “Are you alright? Did something happen during your trip?”

“No, the trip was alright,” Bridget said. “I’m, I'm just tired.”

The redhead tipped her head to the side as she considered Bridget’s response. “Why are you at the wrong door then? Are you so tired you got turned around?” she asked as she once again cupped Bridget’s face to check if she was truly alright.

“I, uh, spilled coffee on our new neighbor while I was trying to help her,” Bridget said. “Sam, this is Franky Doyle,” she said. The blonde knew better than to introduce Franky as Francesca. She faced Franky and said, “Franky, this is Samantha Cardall, my girlfriend.” She may have mumbled the second part of her sentence, but she knew Franky heard her because she saw how wide the brunette’s eye grew.

_Girlfriend?!!!_ That word was all that screamed inside of Franky. Deep down, she already knew it was a possibility but she was holding off for proof. Now, indisputable truth smacked her in the face and mocked her crushed soul. It was as if truth got personified and now stood with a sneering look, crossed arms and a tapping foot.

The atmosphere felt thick for Bridget. It was so thick that she struggled not to display signs of suffocation. She was forced to watch helplessly as her past and present shook hands with each other. She couldn’t imagine how Franky was feeling on the inside even when she knew her so well. As expected, Sam seemed rather oblivious.

For the first time, Sam took a real, good look at Franky since appearing from seemingly out of nowhere. “Hmm… she’s better looking than our previous neighbor. If it ever gets lonely in there, we have plenty of space in our two bedroom. Right babe?” Sam winked playfully at Franky as her green eyes glimmered. She nudged Bridget with her elbow and the blonde started choking. “Jeez…are you catching something? You’re feeling as bad as you look,” she said as she gently scratched the end of Bridget’s scalp. “Let’s get you rest up for tonight.” Sam tugged at the luggage handle for Bridget to let go and as she guided Bridget back to their unit, she turned her head around to face Franky. “Hey Franky, you wanna come for Bridget’s birthday tonight? It’s going to be _awesome_.”

Bridget spun around and froze. Her eyes were trying hard to study the brunette. “I’m sure Franky has other things to do.” She couldn’t quite believe what she heard. She couldn’t know for sure if Sam caught anything amiss with them or if it was just another moment which Sam wanted more people to witness her party planning prowess.  

“Babe, she’s new in the city and you spilled coffee on her,” Sam said. She was even sounding impressively sincere.

“You know what? I’ll come,” Franky said confidently. She was extremely thankful that the confidence in her voice returned. It wasn't a move to challenge Sam, but she simply didn't want the redhead to think that she was having some sort of inferiority complex. The brunette knew that Sam only invited her out of a classic showboating move. She wasn’t going to back down, especially if it meant being able to spend more time with Bridget. Even if she couldn’t talk to her, the chances of being able to look from afar would suffice. She also hadn’t gotten a good sense of Sam, but tonight was going to be a good chance for that.

Bridget stared wide-eyed at the brunette. She was trying to help Franky out of the uncomfortable situation, but the brunette was charging straight at it.

“Great! We’ll meet out here at 8. Let’s carpool for a better tomorrow,” Sam said with a smirk.

Bridget took that as her cue to continue moving into her unit. It was impossible to talk more to Franky and apologize again with Sam right behind her heels.

Franky watched her heart leave with Bridget and as the door of 202 closed, she felt like her heart was shot with a shotgun. Unfortunately, the shotgun blast wasn’t fatal. It only served to amplify her agony. _How the fuck was she going to survive tonight?_ She wondered why she had to agree to the invitation, but then she already knew why she said yes. She was so starved out of Bridget that any capacity of her would suffice. The moment her front door was securely shut, she crashed into a sobbing pile of mess near the door. She didn’t know why the universe was so cruel to have played such a sick, sick joke on her. It gave her the opportunity to see the object of her desire but only to see that she’s moved on. She couldn't do anything but laugh bitterly as she wept.

***

A quick check on her phone told Franky that she had two hours to fully compose herself but all she wanted to do was cry. Her brain fought to be the source of sound reasoning, telling her that there would be no more crying until after the party. She was not allowed to bring down Bridget’s mood at her own party for she knew that there was only so much that she could cover from the blonde. So she mustered all her strength into telling herself that it was indeed possible to fight away the tears which were threatening to fall once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> Who had to reread the first chapter because it's been soooo loooong? :D I promise it's not abandoned and if any of you wonder about the other story, that's not abandoned either. It's just taking a much longer time.
> 
> Thank you for leaving all those comments! They are deeply appreciated and I hope that you enjoyed chapter 2. If you did, feel free to let me know :)
> 
> Cheers!


	3. Welcome To The Wait!

7.50pm. That was when Franky finally decided on what she would wear. A soft maroon top, black blazer and skin-tight dark jeans. Her ankle high boots clicked on the hardwood floors as she paced up and down her living room, desperate to work off some of her nervous energy. Then her eyes caught a neatly folded piece of paper. It was slipped through her front door. She didn’t know how she didn't notice that piece of paper earlier. She knelt down, picked up the paper and unfolded it.

_You look in my eyes and I get emotional inside_

_I know it’s crazy but you still can touch my heart_

_And after all this time you’d think that I wouldn’t feel the same_

_But time melts into nothing and nothing’s changed_

Mariah Carey, _I Still Believe_

Franky’s hands shook. It was creepy as fuck! No, creepy didn’t even began to describe how she felt. She thought her days of looking over her shoulder were gone when she left Wentworth, but this just proves otherwise. The handwriting was rather childish though. It wasn’t Bridget’s, and it definitely wasn’t her type of humor. Franky also had a gut feeling that Bridget was taking a nap and wasn’t trying to terrify her. She tossed the paper on her kitchen counter, refusing to give it another thought. Too much was out of Franky’s control and naturally, the unknown scared her. And it was not time to _acknowledge the fear_ like Bridget had taught her. It would have to wait. In an attempt to soothe her nerves, she took another look at her attire to see if it was appropriate. Since she didn’t even know where they were going, she had chosen to wear maroon. It was Bridget’s go-to color when in doubt. She believed that it was a timeless piece of advice. _Not as bold as red but still sexy as hell,_ as Bridget would put it.

The brunette pulled out her phone and the screen flashed: 8.01pm. She was starting to wonder if she was forgotten or if those two were patiently waiting for her to meet them out in the hallway. But if they were outside, Franky’s strained ears were picking up nothing. How thick were the walls anyway? They were certainly a big improvement from her previous rental. She was used to tolerating annoying and loud neighbors, but this was just unbelievably quiet! She could no longer stand to do nothing. She exited her unit and knocked twice on 202. Soon, she could hear someone in heels approaching the front door. Her heart was filling with hope as she thought of Bridget. But no, the universe was still being cruel to her.

Sam opened the door in a smooth move. She smiled before speaking cheerfully. “Welcome to the wait!” She stepped aside to let Franky in. “Bridget needs a bit more time, but to be fair, I should have woken her up a bit earlier,” she added with a laugh.

Jealousy settled like a flaming ball at the center of Franky’s chest. Her mind drifted back to those lovely Friday evenings which she still treasured dearly. On a typical Friday, Bridget had a shorter schedule at Wentworth and as a treat, the blonde would come home, shower, and dive into those luxurious silk sheets for a nap. She needed the energy. She knew how much would be drained off by her girlfriend. When Franky got back, she made sure to not make loud noises. To the brunette, there was nothing more adorable on a Friday evening than a napping Bridget flopped on her stomach. She would settle dinner quietly, shower in the other bathroom, and then enter their bedroom. She could never find it in herself to just wake her girlfriend up for dinner so she chose to get in bed and gently rub the blonde’s back. She marveled at how easily sleep came for Bridget. But of course, for the psychologist, sleep was just sleep. It was as simple as that. It started when Bridget was a child. The Westfall parents made sure that all their three children, Andrew, Bridget and Chloe, grew up in a safe, healthy and loving environment. Who wouldn’t love sleeping under such conditions? The Westfall parents wouldn’t use taunting voices to scare their children as they slept. They were never drunk or high. They made sure that their children never knew what it felt like to go to bed hungry. And they were certainly nowhere near trying to torture their children with lit cigarettes! No, that kind of childhood was only reserved for the _lucky ones_ like Franky. Thus, little Bridget always got to fall asleep in a warm and clean bed as her mother, Moira, sang sweetly to her. She would then wake up to her loving family gathered in the kitchen for breakfast the next morning. The Westfall family had their fair share of dramas, but all dramas are easier to navigate through when there’s a firm foundation of love and acceptance. Every Westfall member knew by heart that they are loved and when they are loved, they wouldn’t ever be rejected. That’s why while it took some time for Bridget to come out to her family and then boyfriend, she was sure she would be accepted and she only took the time to ascertain for herself.

Franky also adored how Bridget didn’t stir easy from her sleep. It gave her the opportunity to place soft, random kisses all over the blonde’s face. She just couldn’t fathom how she seemed to fall deeper and deeper in love with her girldfriend even when her heart is already filled with love for her. She would gladly carve out her own still-beating heart if it meant that Bridget would be happy. But she only got to that state because Bridget was never exploitative. She knew she was important to Franky and she did nothing to tilt the power of their relationship to favor herself. As the gentle rubbing and kissing continued, those blue eyes would regain their focus. The two would exchange their whispered “ _hi’s_ ” and look deep into each other’s eyes. Being lost in those sleepy blue eyes was something that Franky could never tire from. She felt her heart melt every single time Bridget smiled lazily at her. They would pamper each other with more soft kisses before deciding to get up. But if Bridget needed more affection, the psychologist would lay on top of the brunette. It was a well-received move by Franky as she would just wrap her arms around the smaller woman and kiss the top of her head. When such intimate moments were being created, there was no hurry for dinner. They would embrace each other until someone’s stomach started growling. Giggles would follow before the brunette bounced off the bed to look for more clothes since Bridget was always only dressed in a thin tank top and underwear. Franky now hated the fact that Sam got to wake Bridget up from her nap. She had to drill it into her head that Bridget wasn't hers anymore. Wasn’t hers to wake up. Wasn’t hers to hold closely. Wasn’t hers to softly kiss. And wasn’t even hers to touch.

“Franky, you alright there?”

Franky could hear Sam’s question, but it sounded distant. She forced a nod and smile at Sam who looked slightly concerned. The brunette looked around the unit. Her eyes absorbed even the minutest of details and the whole décor screamed at her. Nothing in it reflected Bridget’s warm style. Sure, it was expensively decorated, but it was so freaking cold and it wasn’t the temperature! The whole of 202 look like it was furnished by a soulless corporation.

“Can I get you a drink?” Sam pointed to the multiple bottles of alcohol arranged near the kitchen.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Franky said as politely as she could manage. Years in Wentworth had made her cautious of strangers who appear too nice at first glance. She knew Bridget, but she had no idea who Sam was. Her guts told her that they could be pretty similar. In their brief interaction, Franky caught a whiff of how playful and flirty Sam was. She also caught that sparkle which reflected off Sam’s green eyes. They may be more similar than what Franky was willing to admit. But that in itself may not be bad until the brunette compared how she was with Bridget and how Sam is with Bridget. Franky never flirted with anyone when she was with Bridget. She simply felt no want of it and while the brunette was in Wentworth for a significant amount of time, she still knew that Bridget was irreplaceable.

“You sure? I’ve got quite the impressive cognac collection here,” Sam said with a wink. “Plus, I’m the self-designated driver so Bridget can drink all she wants, and that means you can too. If you’re more into wine like Bridget, I’m sure she’s got an open bottle or two somewhere.” When she saw Franky politely decline with a shake of her head, she walked over to the couch, took a seat and crossed her legs. “Well, make yourself comfortable. That girlfriend of mine takes forever, but the finished look, oh so worth the wait!” she added proudly as she flipped open a business magazine.

_Oh, don’t I know it!!!_ And Franky did know just how amazing Bridget would always look if she put the extra effort. Hell, even when she didn’t make the extra effort, Bridget was one hell of a looker. She had this fascinating talent of looking effortlessly beautiful and radiant. It was intriguing at all times for Franky to watch the magic happen. She could spend hours just looking at how Bridget gracefully got ready. It wasn't only Bridget’s good looks, but her poise was equally enchanting. The brunette chastised herself internally. She allowed herself to drift so far into her thoughts of Bridget that she stood awkwardly in the middle of the open floor plan unit. The layout was similar to hers. She looked around some more and wondered if the “coldness” was due to the entire kitchen being colored in white. Even the exposed red brick walls were not spared. The only change in color was for the silver appliances.

Franky shuffled her feet and looked at the living room. Sam’s red hair stood out like a sore thumb as it was a stark contrast against the mostly white and gold furnishing. Her outfit, on the other hand, seemingly blended in with the décor. She had on a white suit and head-turner gold necklace with no inside top. Her cropped pants allowed her to show off her gold strappy heels.

“Franky, why are you just standing there?” Sam asked, looking puzzled as she raised her eyebrows. She flexed her foot as she waited on a reply from the brunette. But all she got from Franky was just this lost look on her face.

When Franky was finally able to reign in all of her distracted thoughts, she settled into sitting at the opposite end of the white couch. She pulled out her phone and started swiping around since Sam began to read from her magazine again.

“Baby, I’m ready,” Bridget spoke breezily as she stepped out from the master bedroom. From where she stood, she couldn't see that Franky was present as well.

Upon hearing Bridget’s first word, Franky felt her soul and heart crush into another level of despair. It was a whole new level again. _Just how many fucking levels were there???!_ She almost laughed at how much it hurt her. She was only used to Bridget calling her _baby_ and now she had to cope with the blonde calling someone else that. Same word. Same warm tone. But different recipient. She knew that maybe Bridget would have curbed her tongue if she knew Franky was also sitting on the couch. But this realization did nothing to soothe the anguish that her soul felt.

Sam practically threw her magazine away at the sound of Bridget’s melodic voice. Her wait was over. She knew that her girl would be stunning, but whatever her brain was envisioning, the real appearance of Bridget would still blow her mind. It just always did.

Franky stood as Sam moved towards Bridget. She was just as excited and when she caught a look of Bridget, her wounded heart skipped several beats. It pained her to know that she couldn't walk up to Bridget and plant a kiss. The pain was so intense that she felt blood trickling out of her wound. She sucked in a breath and held it. The blonde was in an elegant, maroon sleeveless dress. A dainty rose gold necklace hung from her neck and the simple pendant stopped before her modest show of cleavage. Her ensemble was completed with golden killer heels and her blonde hair was set in loose curls. Franky finally let go of the breath that she was holding in.

Bridget felt Sam’s lips on her cheek, but she didn’t really feel it either. Her gaze was fixed on the brunette. Franky had toned down her use of eye makeup, but those green eyes were just as piercing as she remembered them. She noted to herself that Franky was ageing well. The additional time at Wentworth gave a somewhat harder look on the brunette, but it suited her. She didn't look like the hardened criminal she saw back in those Wentworth files and she didn’t look like the worried top dog who knew that her reign was ending. She looked a lot closer to the Franky she spent months with, but with the addition of something else. She couldn’t really put her finger on it, but if she had to, she’d place it as Franky looking like someone who got dealt an awful hand, accepted it, and now used the experience to mold herself for the better. She was proud of her even when she knew she didn't have a right to. She wanted badly to at least be able to compliment Franky on her outfit choice, but she really didn’t feel like it was her place anymore. She also didn’t want Sam to get any wrong ideas.     

When Sam stood back and looked at Franky, she asked expectantly, “Uh, you’re both in maroon. Franky, why don’t you change? Don’t wanna be said to have stolen the limelight from Bridget, yeah?”

Franky switched back and forth from Bridget to Sam and back to Bridget. She opened her mouth to agree but before she could, she was interrupted by the blonde.

“There’s no need for that, and we’re so very late,” Bridget spoke with a tinge of guilt.

Sam shrugged. “It’s a good thing that we’re arriving with the birthday girl, eh? No one could fault us for being late,” she said to Franky. She again had that grin which was so very similar to Franky’s.

In truth, Franky had no idea how she was to respond so she was smiling in a way that never quite reached her eyes.

“Babe, do you have your keys? We won’t fit in my i8,” Sam said while looking at Bridget.  “Come on, wouldn’t want the guests to start partying without us.”

Franky tried looking around the darkened street for any sort of distraction. She couldn’t look long at the two ahead of her. It was painful just to see Sam’s hand on Bridget’s lower back. She scanned the area for the blonde’s silver Volkswagen and failed to find it. The two stopped at a black Jaguar XJ. The brunette nearly gasped as she wondered if that was Bridget’s new car.

“Babe, real quick, how awesome does my car look with its new wheels?” Sam squealed as her eyes glimmered.

Franky nearly rolled her eyes. She could tell that Sam was more excited about her car than she was when Bridget walked out of the bedroom moments earlier. Sure, the BMW was an impressive looking car but to Franky, it was still just a white car. Those blue accents did nothing to enhance the appeal to Franky. For the brunette, it would always pale in comparison to Bridget, and if she was being honest, she preferred the subtle, understated beauty which the Jaguar oozed. But she was also beginning to wonder if she still really knew Bridget. Two years wasn’t a long time, but a lot could’ve happened. And as far as she knew, the psychologist wasn’t one to splurge on cars. The brunette watched as the blonde congratulated the redhead on her choices. From where Franky was already standing, it looked like it just made sense for her to sit behind the driver’s seat. It was good because she’d be able to see Bridget without much issues. She settled herself into the plush black interior and admired the contrast red stitching. Then, it screamed at her: an infant car seat that matched the interior of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> It's been a long time! I know some of you are waiting for Bridget's party. It'll be the next chapter. If you enjoyed it, please lemme know. As for now, got a plane to catch! :D


	4. Happy Birthday, Bridget!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally Bridget's birthday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello awesome readers! =) 
> 
> I hope you’ll take the time to read this before diving straight into the chapter. 
> 
> 1\. I have to change the rating of this story. If anyone’s underaged, sorry!  
> 2\. Without giving too much away, there’s unwelcomed sexual advances. Reader discretion is advised.  
> 3\. Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know it’s been a long time, but if you have any questions or enjoyed the read, feel free to let me know. Also, tell me if this chapter is how you pictured it!  
> 4\. This chapter is pretty lengthy. Over 5k of words so budget you time :)  
> 5\. Lastly, special thanks to M for helping me iron out my brain.

_Infant car seat. Car seat? Car seat! Car seat!! Car seat!!! CAR SEAT!!!!_ Franky could stop her thoughts from running wild. _Did it mean that Bridget and Sam had a baby?! If they did, then where’s the baby??! Does Sam even look like she could love someone who demanded so much? And was it rude for Franky to ask?_ Franky knew that her jealousy and unstable emotions clouded her objectivity when it came to reading Sam. Despite that, she could see how tense Bridget looked. The psychologist used to have a look when she knew she was to say something, but just couldn’t bring herself to. Franky wondered if it still meant the same. Franky quietly exhaled and mindlessly stroked the neatly folded fleece blanket beside her. It was oddly calming. She knew for a fact that it was Bridget’s because the blonde would reach for her blanket whenever she felt cold. It soon became a must-have in Franky’s car too and even when she no longer had the privilege of driving Bridget around, the brunette still kept a blanket in the backseat.

As Sam drove, Franky entertained the thought of how awesome it would be if the redhead just instantaneously vanished into thin air and then she could ask Bridget the burning question. She could also drive Bridget off to a more intimate setting. It was what the blonde always requested. But no such luck. She had to watch as the redhead made several suggestive looks at Bridget and Franky knew what those looks meant. It made her sick to her stomach.

Apart from that, the short drive to the venue was smooth. Franky expected that much. Small talk was made.

Sam had the car parked and walked briskly over to open the door for Bridget.

Franky again walked behind them.

When they entered the venue, the party guests yelled, “Happy Birthday, Bridget!”

The party had over fifty people. Most of which Franky suspected were not from Bridget’s contact list. The few that the brunette recognized were Bridget’s mom and siblings. Franky watched as the blonde smiled pleasingly at Sam, inquiring why this birthday was so special. All the brunette heard was that the ginger seemed to hint that while this wasn’t a milestone birthday, it was still a big event. That just made Franky’s guts sink lower even when she had no idea what the fuck was going to happen. The unknown was simply agony in its purest sense.

“How about some Bridgeritas, aye?” Sam asked, while Bridget giggled and nodded.

_The fuck?_ The night was just getting weirder for Franky. Signature cocktail. A fucking signature cocktail for a birthday party. _Excessive much?_

Franky walked over to a circular black bar table and stood by it, leaning her forearms hard on it. She wondered if she was just getting too old for this shit. She couldn’t take it. Couldn’t look up. Couldn’t see them twirl around. Couldn’t see how happy Bridget was when she was dancing with Sam. Bridget had that playful, sexy smile and Sam had that same grin which Franky had when she held the blonde close. _Kill me now_ , Franky thought. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling at random cute animal posts on her app. It always made her smile. She was hoping it would do the same for her this time, but before its magical powers could happen, she felt a soft tug at her left elbow.

The brunette looked down to whom she would easily call a _little Bridget_ if she didn’t know Bridget well enough. The two looked remarkably similar. However, there was simply no way that the blonde failed to mention a child in one of their more serious talks. This child at nine or ten-ish, had two high pigtails and big blue eyes and was way too big to fit into that car seat. “What do you want, kiddo?”

_Little Bridget_ simply handed Franky a folded piece of paper and trotted off to sit herself down on one of those high bar stools about ten feet away. When she sensed that Franky was still looking at her, she met the brunette’s questioning gaze. She then did something that forced out Franky’s surprised look. She pointed at herself. _I_. Used two fingers to point at her eyes. _See_. Pointed at Franky. _You_.   

Franky broke off the intense gaze from that child and unfolded the paper. Same kind of paper that she received under her door earlier.

_You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor_

_\---_

_Stone cold, baby_

_God knows I try to feel happy for you_

_Know that I am, even if I can't understand_

_\---_

_If happy is her, I'm happy for you_

_\---_

_You're dancing with her, while I'm staring at my phone_

_Stone cold, stone cold_

_I was your amber, but now she's your shade of gold_

_[Demi Lovato, Stone Cold ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/demilovato/stonecold.html) _

As her eyes read through the lyrics, Franky had one thought on her mind. _Who the fuck was this kid? Was the universe not cruel enough at its current level that it decided to spawn a mini Bridget just to mock her?_ She now wasn’t even sure that the whole incident wasn’t part of her imagination. She looked up and there sat the evil little Bridget, ever so proud that she hit the nail in the head with her song choice. The brunette stuffed the paper into her pocket and downed the rest of her Bridgerita. Nope, not good enough. She needed another. _Who the fuck was she kidding?_ Regardless of margaritas having a high alcohol content, she still wasn't feeling the desired effects. She then wondered if flirting could get her tequila shots instead.  

It was easy for Franky to get what she wanted from that bartender. She knew she had the looks to back up her charm, but she chuckled internally at how easy it was. She did so well that the woman slipped her her number. She winked and stuffed the napkin into her pocket and as she turned around to leave, she bumped into someone. “Sorry,” she said sincerely and she heard a gasp.

Vera couldn’t believe who was before her eyes. “Doyle?” she asked in utter disbelief.

“Vera,” Franky said with a smirk.

Vera was now even more caught off guard. Firstly, the younger woman before her didn’t look like the Franky she had in prison. Secondly, she didn’t refer to her as Vinegar Tits! Thirdly, there was nothing mean about Franky! And fourthly, this Franky look-alike apologizes sincerely and quickly!  She looked at the taller brunette from head to toe.

“Careful there, Vera. People might think that you have the hots for me if you keep looking at me like that. Some might think we’re gonna go bumper to bumper in the washroom later,” Franky teased.

“Wh-what? Wh-what? H-how?” Vera sputtered.

“I’ll assume you’re asking about what I’m doing here and how I’m here. To put it shortly, I’m Bridget’s new neighbor. I arrived together with Bridget... _and Sam_ ,” Franky replied with a tone that implied that she herself was in a slight disbelief. “If ya keep ya mouth open any longer, you’re gonna catch flies” she added jokingly.

“How are you so different?!” Vera asked, louder than expected and caused a few heads to turn.

Franky chuckled at the response and said, “I’m a changed woman. How’s Wentworth? The girls? Mr. Jackson?”

“Uh, the girls are good. Proctor is managing them well. Mr. Jackson is back to being Deputy Governor,” Vera said as she scrutinized the brunette before her.

Franky nodded, pleased with the answer.

Vera’s phone buzzed and she sighed. “It’s work, I got to take this.”

Franky gave one of her charming smiles and walked back to her table.

“Ladies and gentleman, what a great party it’s been, right?” Sam said while speaking into the microphone on the stage. She waited for the cheers to die down before continuing, “I can assure you, that’s it’s only going to get _better_!” Another round of applause. “Now, maybe quite a few of you know how Bridget and I met, and you guys are always amazed at that story. Well, tonight’s a recreation of that moment. And for those of you who don’t know how we met, we met right here. Everyone, be prepared to be _blown_ _away_!”

Franky sure didn’t know how the two met. Part of her was a bit worried that it would sound better than how the both of them met. _But who could trump the story of seasoned prison psychologist falling for the prison’s top dog?_ One could try, of course. She glanced over at Bridget. The blonde looked ecstatic as she stood with her family and when Franky’s gaze met Chloe’s, the latter was scowling at her. So, Franky returned her observation to Bridget who was wearing that mesmerized look. A look that Franky had thought till moments ago belonged solely to her.

“For those of you who don’t know, two years ago, Bridget was quite the player. Women were constantly flocking to her to hear that amazing voice, addictive laughter, and in hopes of a _little_ _something more_ ,” Sam said while pausing for a second to collect her emotions. She smiled with a small blush and it highlighted her cheekbones. She looked lovingly at Bridget as the blonde mouthed playfully to her, “My mom's here!” She gave a small nod before continuing, “And I, being similar to those women, wanted Bridget to _see_ me. Believe me, that’s a big task. There were just too many women! And I’m a redhead. I mean, I should stand out, right?” she paused while the crowd laughed. “Now, I know I had to do something different to get her attention. So, here’s what I did, I got up on the stage, got hold of their guitar and did a quick sound check. But tonight, I brought my own guitar because Bridget and I picked this guitar together. Here goes my rendition of Sam Hunt’s _Take Your Time_ ,” Sam said as she settled on the barstool.

As Sam finished, she placed the guitar down, took the microphone off its stand and continued her walk towards the psychologist as she spoke. “Bridget, that night, I didn’t know what was going to happen after I made you notice me. I cannot be happier for the way things turned out. And similar to the song, I always wanna take your time, but I also wanna steal your freedom, change your mind, make you love me, have you call me baby, let me call you mine and own your heart. Bridget Westfall,” Sam said rather breathlessly. She reached into her pocket, knelt down on one knee and produced a brilliant diamond ring. “As it’s inscribed on the band, ‘will you _be mine_?’”

The pain in Franky felt magnified. It was so strong that she nearly cried out. She thought that by now, she was too full of alcohol to feel the pain. Her fists were curled so tightly that even when her fingernails burrowed into her palms, the physical pain was an uneven match against her internal one. Franky wasn’t religious, but she believed in a higher power. And if there was a god, she was praying like never before just for him to strike her down right then and there. As predicted, no such luck. She had to watched Bridget nod slowly before verbalizing a _yes_. A fucking yes. Truthfully, it wasn’t that unpredictable. Franky knew the blonde’s answer the moment she saw how captivated Bridget looked as Sam sang.  

The crowd cheered as Sam slipped the ring onto Bridget’s ring finger. The ginger needed some help from the blonde to stand up and when she did, she pulled Bridget in for the longest fucking kiss. “Let’s bring out the Samtinis since it’s now also an _engagement party_!” she squealed into the microphone.

Franky was wondering if anyone would notice if she slipped out of the party. She wondered if it would be considered rude. One more “stronger” Bridgerita might just make it easier, and she was now sure that the bartender would give in to her requests easily. She wanted a fuckload more of alcohol, but she’d be damned if all that’s left were the ingredients for a martini.  

“You’re the infamous Franky Doyle, aren’t you?” a mid-forties man asked. He narrowed his blue eyes judgmentally at her while placing his drink on the newly shared table.

“And what’s it to you?” Franky spat back. She wasn't in the mood for whatever type of conversation this dude was trying to have. If he was thinking that his good looks excused his lack of charm, he’ll be in for a rude awakening.

The stranger ran a hand through his stylish blonde hair. “Still the spitfire, I see. The name is Marc Walters. Bridget’s best friend and baby daddy,” he spoke clearly. “Deeply puzzling, how you even found your way here, Ms. Doyle.”

“How did you know who I am?” Franky asked. _Baby daddy_. That was bothering the brunette on so many levels but she refused to ask, knowing how it could give Marc the satisfaction that he got to her.

Marc nodded at the question. “From the many photos that Bridget _had_ of you.”

_Had_. Franky was pissed off and she knew Marc did it on purpose.

“Your eyes. They’re so very alike Ms. Cardall’s, aren’t they?” Marc asked. “And there’s more of it. See that look of annoyance you just gave me? Spotted that on Ms. Cardall too,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

Franky knew the ass was just talking but she felt like he was tearing her insides apart with his word choices. “Whatever. Is there a point to this?” Franky asked as the frustration within her soared. It hurt her to know that she had been removed from Bridget's phone, but if there was a sliver of comfort, it would be that Bridget was too heartbroken to do it herself. The thought was nearly too overwhelming, but she forced herself to repress it all.

“There is and I’ll get to it in a bit. She really _did_ love you,” Marc said as he took a sip of his martini.

_Did_. Another past tense that tore into Franky.

“When you were in prison for the second time, Bridget hit the bottle hard and the last living reminder of you, Puss, your cat ran away. Got hit by a car. Bridget witnessed the entire ordeal. Never saw her so broken. Didn't even take much to convince her to pack up and move in with me.” He paused just long enough to gauge Franky’s reaction before continuing. “The both of us combined, have nearly half a century worth of experience in psychology and yet, we couldn’t fix her. Imagine that,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “And it was all caused by this one mistake that Bridget made. Falling for an inmate.” He shook his head in dismay. “Oh, how special did you have to be for Bridget to risk her entire career for you. I don’t see it, but if she loved you that deeply, insanely might I add, perhaps you have your merits. Just know that she’s finally picked herself up. You saw her. You see how happy they are. She deserves this,” Marc finished as he placed his glass firmly on the table before walking away.

Franky didn’t know how much more she could endure. Her heart ached as she thought of the pain that Bridget endured with the loss of her and their shared pet. It wouldn’t have taken much to persuade the blonde to leave Melbourne back then. Franky didn’t know how long she could afford to keep her stoic façade up. Even her legs felt wobbly. Perhaps it was time for her to make her move and then she saw Bridget walking apologetically towards her. Everything in Franky stilled. She realized that no matter how she felt on the inside, one look from Bridget seemingly gave her the strength to press on. She was anxious and calm at the same time. It seemed to happen only with Bridget.

“Hi,” Bridget said sympathetically. She would have started with an _I’m sorry_ , but Franky was never up for pity. She cursed inwardly at not arriving to Franky sooner or trying harder to stop Franky from arriving at her party. She had solid guesses at how Franky was doing on the inside and there was this little part of her that wanted to hug Franky and just comfort her. The rational part of her told her that that move would be so inappropriate. As her eyes settled on Franky’s maroon top, she fought the urge to touch the fabric. She wanted to feel the softness on her fingertips. And if she was being honest, she didn’t know if it was really the fabric that she wanted to touch. She could just as likely want touch the soft, warm tattooed skin which the material hid.

“What a party, right?” Franky said, glad that she was able to manage a small smile. For a second, her eyes drifted to Bridget’s hand and when the light hit the diamond, she forced herself to look only at Bridget’s face.

“It’s quite the party,” Bridget said. “Listen, I--”

“Gidge, who’s that kid? The one at your six.” She knew Bridget was going to say something that might just break the dam in her. She already felt the cracks forming and whatever the blonde was going to say would be a wrecking ball to those already weakened walls. She hated to dominate the conversation, but she had to this time. She had to steer the conversation in her favor.

Bridget turned around and smiled at the child. She waved animatedly before returning her gaze to Franky. “That’s Anabelle. She and her dad live in 302.” Her blue eyes scanned the room for Anabelle’s dad, but he wasn’t located. “Sometimes, I help look after her. Single dad. Demanding job.”

“Isn’t she creepy?”

Bridget laughed and raised her eyebrows at the brunette. “She just roams around the building. Is that creepy?”

“That's a bit creepy, but I haven’t seen her roaming around.” Franky said. _The kid roams. That explains a bit,_ she thought to herself. She knew Bridget wanted more of an explanation but she wasn’t ready to give it. And so she looked for something else. “Gidge, I met Marc.”

Bridget felt her stomach churn. She wanted badly to be the first person to break the ice on that topic. She knew that Franky saw the car seat, but she wasn't about to go explaining herself with Sam in the car. “You know, whatever he said, don’t take it to heart. He’s terribly protective and he tends to talk too much after having a few drinks.”

“Introduced himself as your baby daddy,” Franky said, hoping that it sounded nonchalant. “Is there really a baby Gidge?” she asked as her heart fluttered with the thought.

“There’s a baby, Grace,” Bridget said. She couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her lips as she thought of her baby girl.

“Do you have a photo?” Franky asked excitedly. All of her pain was momentarily forgotten when she looked at how happy Bridget was.

“I have an album,” Bridget replied joyfully as she started swiping through her phone. She was again missing her baby even when Marc’s place was the first place she stopped at the moment she got off the plane. She handed her phone to Franky and watched the younger woman admire the first photo.

Franky could hardly believe it! The baby was a mini Bridget and the way the psychologist looked at her baby, it just melted Franky. She was now in love with a photo. Madly in love with a baby whom she hasn’t even met. She thought she had seen all of the different emotions on Bridget’s face until she witnessed the new one which the blonde had as she held her daughter. She cleared her throat as she looked at Bridget. “Where’s baby Gidge now?”

Bridget laughed. “Gracie’s been living with Marc since I was away. She has a sitter for tonight. She’s gets cranky if it gets past her bedtime.”

“Just like her mom,” Franky said with a smirk while looking up.

Bridget smiled as she saw Franky’s excitement with the photos. The brunette’s smile was just growing wider with each photo.

“I didn’t know you wanted a child, Gidge,” Franky said, hoping that her tone wasn’t accusatory.

Bridget nodded as if understanding. “It was just something that Marc and I used to talk about when we were in grad school. Impermanence seemed to be a constant theme. When Sam and I broke up, I had a long chat with Marc about living together and raising our baby, but then I got back with Sam. We still went ahead as you can see.”

Franky swallowed hard. She had no idea how she was to react. It sounded like Bridget was ready to marry Marc and have her perfect family. And if Bridget was willing to have a child with him, he couldn't really be the ass that Franky first thought of. Though Franky had little to no experience of what a father should be to a growing child, she was going to give it to Marc for still being around. “Is he a good dad?”

“He’s perfect. He loves Gracie, doesn't mind changing diapers,” Bridget said with a smile. “Don’t let her sweet, round, angelic face fool you, she can be quite difficult,” she added.

“Just like her mom,” Franky teased.

“Now, you’re just making me look bad,” Bridget said while smiling back at Franky.

“Don’t cha know by now, Gidge? You could never ever look bad.”

Bridget felt her eyebrow raise. _Was Franky flirting with her because they were once an item or was Franky flirting because she was Franky?_ She had no way of determining which it was and her brain screamed at her. God, this woman is beautiful! Those playful green eyes. That smile. Those two dimples. Bridget could go on and on.  

Franky swiped past a few photos of Marc and the baby. She stopped at a photo of Marc, Bridget and the baby at the hospital. “Did Sam take this photo?”

“No, she was away for a crucial work project for the last two weeks of my pregnancy.”

It was now Franky’s turn to be surprised. She tried her best to digest the information. She gasped. “You were alone in all of it?” She couldn’t fight the curiosity anymore.

“No, Marc insisted that I move in with him.” She took a sip of her drink and added jokingly, “Sometimes I think he’s more intrusive than my ob-gyn.”

“So Sam’s not any bit committed to Baby Gidge?”

After taking another sip of her signature cocktail, Bridget replied, “Sam grew up being bounced in various group homes. She couldn’t see how beneficial it is to adopt a baby who already has both biological parents caring for her. Cool Aunt Sam is who she wants to be.”

“But not a single photo?” Franky asked as her curiosity was now mixed with astonishment.

Bridget started laughing before she could get her reply out. “Gracie wails every time.”

And there it is. The answer that Franky was looking for and even the baby knew it! As it turned out, Franky was right about Sam. But the baby was simply too lovable! Franky’s warm, gushy feeling couldn’t stay though. The brunette couldn’t get it. _Who wouldn’t want to have a bigger part in that precious little one’s life?_ Then she saw it. It made her blood go cold. “Gidge, what the hell is Erica doing here?” Franky asked as she tilted her head to the direction of Sam and Erica.

“How do you know Erica?”

“Because that’s _the_ Erica!” Franky hissed, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation.

“No, shit! Sam occasionally mentions an Erica from legal. Dunno it was the same Erica,” Bridget said. She had no clue that the two were the same person since she felt totally secure in her relationship with Franky back then. But now, she felt like she was sorely making a mistake and she couldn’t tell why. She forced a smile, seeing that Sam was guiding Erica right to the two of them.

Franky smoothly slid Bridget’s phone back to her and walked away coolly.

“Bridget, meet Erica from legal. She just got here, and she’s such a godsent at work!” Sam gushed.

“Bridget, always wanted to meet you,” Erica said pleasingly. She shook Bridget’s hand, let go of it, and twisted the psychologist’s left hand. “Beautiful ring. Sam has great taste,” she added before taking a huge sip of her martini.

Bridget smiled politely at her, but there was something unnerving about this blonde. She didn’t know if it was because of what Franky told her or it was simply due to the way she spoke and grabbed her hand. She chalked it up to Erica making full use of the open bar.

Franky was hanging out by the bar. As she watched the exchange of dialogues, she felt bad for Bridget being stuck there. If there was one word that she would use to describe the three over there, it would be _awkward_. She pulled out her phone and decided that it was safe to leave the party without appearing rude, but not before hitting the washroom first.

The brunette could hardly recognize herself. Her green eyes felt as hollow as her soul. It wasn’t very helpful that there was such good lighting in the washroom. She sighed, splashed her face with cold water, and started pulling at paper towels. Bridget now had a hot fiancée, hot baby daddy, hot baby, and hot car. Franky wondered about where that left her. _Hot friend?_ She didn't know if she could just be that.

Someone then entered the washroom as the brunette was drying her face. If she was in Wentworth, she would have immediately looked to see if it was a threat. But being free for so long had helped her calm those instincts. She jumped a bit as she felt gentle hands on her hips and hot breath at the back of her neck. Her brain entertained the sensation only for a split second, believing that it was Bridget behind her. But she knew better. Bridget just got engaged. She wasn’t about to be two-timing.

Franky spun around while she clawed the towel off her face. It was just in time too. She pulled her head away as Erica leaned in to kiss her. She was thankful for her quick reflexes, but she was now pushed against the sink, with Erica pressing in on her. The lawyer was so close that the perfume on her felt intoxicating to Franky.

Erica gripped hard at the sinks, unwilling to let Franky escape from her. She laughed as she saw the terrified look etched on the brunette’s face. She was so used to seeing Franky be the aggressor that this role reversal was amusing to her. “I thought I spotted you out there,” she said as she tried to kiss Franky’s neck.

“Get off me,” Franky said. She couldn’t tell why her hands were frozen by her sides.

“Don’t you want to pick up where we last left off?” she said while trying to nip at Franky’s jaw. Erica pressed her body harder against Franky’s and her hand was now free. “Such tight jeans,” she said as her hands wandered.

The unwanted advances moved Franky to push Erica off her. “I meant it when I said it. _Get. Off. Me._ ” She didn’t look twice at Erica before walking hastily out of the washroom. She knew where she was headed. She had enough of this insanity. She had to get out. She saw Bridget saying goodbye to the older, more tired guests and her heart warmed as she heard the blonde’s giggles.

All Franky wanted to do was to run up to Bridget and bury her face in the crook of the psychologist's neck and just be held as she cried. She knew without a doubt that Bridget wasn't going to push her away, but she also knew that there would be a lot of explaining. She wasn't going to do that to Bridget. She tried her best to maneuver past the blonde. She had to settle for not walking straight into the arms of the person whom she felt most comforted, loved and accepted.

“Franky, aren’t you leaving with us?” Bridget asked, gently holding onto Franky’s arm.

“I’m just gonna walk.”

“You sure? We’re leaving soon, and it’s quite the distance.”

“I’m sure. You have a good night,” Franky said while lightly moving her arm away from Bridget, not wanting the blonde to think that she did something wrong.

 

***

Sam had to place her arm around Bridget’s waist to guide her. Her fiancée wasn’t too drunk, but she knew this phase well. With just enough drinks in, the naughty and playful Bridget would come out. Simply open to experimenting within reasons. Handsy too. She could barely get the giggly blonde into their unit before the groping began.

She kissed Bridget softly as they clumsily made their way into the master bedroom. She had one hand at the back of Bridget’s head and the other around her lower back. “Ever since I saw you in this dress, I couldn’t wait to see how it looks on our bedroom floor,” she whispered seductively into Bridget’s ear, earning her another giggle. The redhead deepened their kiss as they fell as one on their super king-sized bed.

***

The cool walk back was really helping Franky. She knew Bridget wanted her to stay. She could see it in her blue eyes, but it was just too much. If Bridget was still hers, then she would stay. She would always stay.

Franky felt more like herself after the freezing cold shower. She figured that she would curl into a ball and cry herself to sleep when she got into 201. But as she lay in her sleeping bag, she was just too overwhelmed to cry. She felt empty. Nothing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> It's a little late but Happy New Year! If you enjoyed the read, do let me know! It would make my day :)


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